


By The Light Of The Moon

by seldomseen_kid



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i haven't written since i was 14 lmao, in theory it'll be an alternate v7 arc but????, there's not really any actually shippy stuff in the first chapter, this kinda roughly starts during volume 6, will i write a second chapter? it is a mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seldomseen_kid/pseuds/seldomseen_kid
Summary: Qrow's luck has always gotten him into interesting situations.Becoming a Grimm is the one secret he's kept from everyone. Til now.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	By The Light Of The Moon

On nights when the moon shone full over Mantle, one might hear the eerie howls of the Beowolves echo through the air.  
It was on nights like these that people stayed in, knowing Grimm activity was higher than usual when the Beowolves were at their most vocal.  
Children were warned to stay out of the shadows - be ware, lest a Beowolf sneak up and turn you into one of them!  
The classic fairytale warning to keep children safe, and into bed before the night comes alive.  
Unfortunately, as some were beginning to learn - every fairytale has its beginning, and with beginnings came the truth.

It was rare of course - an uncommon mutation amongst Beowolves exclusively, though surely the possibility of other Grimm suffering the same mutation existed - but some of the canine Grimm, if the night was right, could pass on some of their less desirable traits.  
It was exceedingly slim odds, of course, something akin to one in every thousand, but of course, a certain man's misfortune would grant him a first hand experience of this curse.

\---

Qrow didn’t tell anyone when it happened - of course, by that point, who was there to tell? Team STRQ was long since disbanded, Tai wasn’t speaking to him, Summer was _dead_. Raven - well he wouldn’t tell her a word, but she knew. He knew she knew. It wasn’t spoken, but things between them never were, she just _knew_. She knew whenever anything happened in his life, whether he wanted her to or not. Call it a side effect of her keeping tabs on him, or out of some desire, some hope that he would give up his devotion to Ozpin’s quest against Salem, and come home.  
He wouldn’t, though - maybe even couldn’t, now.

He’d let his guard down, turned his back at the wrong moment, misfortune letting one of the usually easily dispatched Grimm slip in close. Close enough to sink teeth into his calf, before Harbinger cleaved the beast’s head cleanly from it’s body.  
The bite wasn’t deep - manageable, albeit sore and messy, and Qrow had found himself laid up at the nearest tavern for a few days, drinking til the pain eased and his aura stitched the flesh back together.  
It left a scar, deep and red and messy, but he didn’t think too much about it to start - of course it would be just his luck for something as stupid as a simple bite to heal badly. It wasn’t uncommon for aura healed wounds to still leave scars with larger injuries, and so for the next month the huntsman dismissed it from his mind.

It wasn’t til the next full moon that he began to feel the burning in his veins.  
A searing heat, radiating from his calf, all the way to his heart, clutching it in searing, burning pain.  
Enough to make him stagger, stumble, as if drunk, but the sheer pain and heat shooting through his body sobered him like nothing he'd ever felt before. The kind of pain that told him something was seriously wrong, considering when he weakly fumbled his scroll out of his pocket, slumping against a wall, it confirmed exactly what his greatest immediate fear had been. His aura and health shone at full - meaning whatever this searing agony was, it was all him.  
As each step felt more and more like his legs were no longer meeting the ground, like the world was spinning up in a bright inferno around him, Qrow had dragged himself back to his room, barely managing to collapse on the floor with enough room to shut the door behind him, before he gave into the raw pain and just _sobbed_.

That night, as his muscles and bones rearranged themselves for the next several hours, as his skin rubbed and peeled away to reveal fur, he'd sobbed, openly and bitterly into the carpet, finally letting the grief and pain of his entire lifetime bubble up to the surface.  
He was sure his scroll chirped with messages once, maybe twice, but he lacked the strength to lift his head, much less attempt to coax any of his limbs into working even vaguely in a manner that he intended.  
Minutes dragged into hours, perhaps even days. He'd felt like his life was ending, like time was frozen forever in this moment of agony.  
But eventually, the pain did subside.  
Not fully, never fully - the burning, crisp heat running through his veins still sang sharp - but finally, Qrow had found the strength to drag himself up onto shaky limbs, to stumble, as if learning to walk for the first time, til he could grasp the mirror and look at himself.

He never forgot that first moment.  
Deep grey fur stared back at him, flecked through with silver, greying strands, but it was the eyes that scared him the most.  
From head to toe, he looked the spitting image of a Beowolf, albeit not as starkly black and white, but at a distance, who would even hesitate to put him down?  
His eyes were that haunted yellow.  
Sickly.

\---

Of course, over the next few years, he'd found ways to hide it, keep it under control. His _unfortunate monthly problem_.  
He wondered for a long time about telling anyone. His team? His family? Ozpin?  
He always managed to talk himself out of bringing the topic up. Ozpin was potentially his best chance - if there was any semblance of a cure to exist, surely Oz would be the one to know what to do. Maybe his magic even, or maybe they could kill the part of him that was now Grimm, or - or nothing.  
Thinking about it made it worse, made his feelings spiral further, and drinking helped him keep from counting down the days til his next transformation.  
Besides, he always had to remind himself, Oz had already given so much of his magic to others.  
_Even to me_ , he'd tell himself, thinking of his more avian 'gift'. He didn't deserve it, didn't know why Ozpin trusted him as much as he did.  
Would Oz still trust him, knowing that he'd become part of the Grimm? Part of Salem?

He swallowed, and buried the thoughts down again. 

It wasn't as if Ozpin trusting him even mattered anymore - the man was gone! Gone, hiding away in the mind of a child, afraid to address the fact that he'd lied to them. Lied to everyone.  
It was a bitter thought, still rattling around in his head. It was hard not to, as he helped himself to the liquor in the abandoned house they'd taken shelter in. Ozpin was gone, Qrow was a Grimm, and he was babysitting a group of children in the midst of frozen _nothing_ , and he could almost laugh. Of course his life led to here.  
Of course everything went wrong in the worst possible way.  
They were basically towing a living bad luck charm around, and this time, he couldn't even fly off! Couldn't give them a break from him, couldn't keep his distance, couldn't abandon his family in the snow.

He sighed, and drank, because that was all he was good at. 

He shouldn't even be thinking these thoughts.  
Til now things had been fine - well, fine enough, disregarding his brush with Tyrian. The full moon was a way off, and he had time to figure out an excuse to make himself scarce before he turned.  
_Maybe I'll even get lucky and get put out of my misery by some hot shot freshmeat Huntsman_.  
He couldn't deny, the idea was tempting.  
The kids had proven time and time again that they were better than him, far better than he'd been at their age, and they weren't burdened by a lifetime of bitterness and resent. They had hope, and they had Ruby.  
The thought of his niece brought a fleeting smile to his lips, but that was quickly swallowed down with another swig of the bottle.  
It was a bitter feeling, realising that he was the only one left keeping secrets from them.  
But he couldn't tell them.  
Couldn't tell anyone.  
Couldn't risk it.

A few more bottles should solve it. 

\---

The Apathy - no, _Ruby_. Ruby had finally shook some sense into him.  
The Apathy hadn't helped, and he knew that it was just his luck that they'd run into such a massive hoard of the Grimm, but it was Ruby who made Qrow stop, made him pull himself out of his own head for the first time in years.  
As much as he loathed it - loathed the loss of the mindless silence, the coping mechanism - his niece was right. He tossed his flask into the well on the way out, down into the inky dark that had almost gotten them all killed.  
Still, he couldn't help but feel guilty.  
Once again, the kids had proven stronger than he was.  
Qrow was weak, and he was tired.  
The rest of the ride to Anima was peaceful, compared, and he chose to sit and listen to Maria's tales, and get lost in the magic that was her life - his _idol_. He still couldn't quite believe that even with everything else, with how everything had turned out, that the Grimm Reaper was travelling with them.  
Alive. In the flesh. 

Talking helped.  
Or more, listening did.  
He let Maria fill the silence - he let the kids fill the silence, actually listening to their stories and what they had to say for once.  
It was a nice break from his own thoughts, that now without the fog of liquor, once again swirled up to the forefront of his mind with every break in the conversation.

While the kids planned their next step, securing transport to Atlas, Qrow planned his own solution to his little Grimm problem.  
If they weren't in Anima too long, he should be able to get a room somewhere in Mantle. Something cheap, some back room in a dice bar with a half decent lock. Somewhere he wouldn't be recognised - somewhere the kids wouldn't come looking for him, if they realised he was gone.  
He almost audibly cursed when he realised that a bar would probably be the first place Yang checked, even if Ruby might have faith in him not immediately slipping back into drinking.  
He doubted Yang did.  
She knew him more than she realised, and he couldn't help but sigh under his breath at the realisation that he'd never really tried to get close to her. To get close enough. 

Ruby reminded him of Summer - her hair, her eyes, her sheer _hope_ and confidence that things would work out for the best, even with him around. Yang reminded him of his sister - strong and determined, almost to a fault. She was passionate, like Raven had been, back in their teen years.  
Before things went wrong.  
Before she learnt the truth.

He didn't want to lose anyone else to the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> i have genuinely no clue if there's any demand out there for a werewolf fairgame au or if i'm the only person who wants this but?? maybe i'll actually attempt stuff that isn't just a weird introspective character study in a second chapter if anyone actually seems to like this??


End file.
